


Who am I?

by Causa



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Causa/pseuds/Causa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pearl walks through Empire City, reflecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who am I?

Pearl could find no silence in the city streets. The clamor of car horns startled her; the neon signs she saw from the corners of her eyes flickered furiously but if she closed her eyes she would bump into some foreign object and her clammy skin would be dirtied. She thought it hadn’t always been like this. The roar of battle did not distract her like the roar of this mass of humanity that sat on her mind, crushing it, made her wonder why she had ever come here. It was for that smile, of course; the one Rose gifted to her as she awoke in her arms was dwarfed only by the grin she would flash in the midst of their shared chaos, a wink and flash of teeth acknowledging the ease with which Pearl had so easily felled their shared foes. When Pearl knew Rose was watching her she would sometimes embellish her steps, make a game of how many she could slice through in one swift spin. And Rose would love it at first, until she began to tire of how often it had to happen; but when it was over, she would put a hand on Pearl’s shoulder and say, “You were amazing out there.”  
  
Rose was never short of praise, but she bristled at some of Pearl’s compliments.  
  
“Look at what you _made_ out of me,” Pearl would sometimes say, beaming, twirling with Earth’s sun in her eyes. _What would I be without you?_  
  
Rose chuckled, and Pearl hadn’t realized at the time how uncomfortable she had made her. “You deserve the credit, my Pearl.”  
  
“And you—you left _everything._ ”  
  
“I’m sure anyone in my position would’ve done the same.”  
  
“Clearly not,” Pearl insisted. “You’re just amazing.”  
  
Rose sighed and placed a hand on Pearl’s back. “So are you.”  
  
Those small touches—on the back, the shoulder, the arm, the cheek—were something Rose gave out so mindlessly. Pearl remembered them daily, the softness of them, the comfort and strength with which they imbued her. The only thing better was fusion. Rainbow Quartz glowed with warmth and contentment, knowing she was smart and strong and swift, knowing she could do anything she wanted. Pearl had always wanted what Ruby and Sapphire had, but she hadn’t known how or when to say that to Rose, and thinking of it made her blush and it made her heart thump painfully and it made her mind race with faces of Rose’s she never wanted to see, so she never said anything.  
  
But Rose probably would have liked it. She would have at least been flattered by it.  
  
Pearl recalled the anxiety she felt on their first true night together. She stood silently, shaking, in a large room, with Rose in front of her, watching Pearl curiously, her dark, beautiful eyes blazing.  
  
“What are you thinking right now, my Pearl?” she said finally.  
  
_My Pearl_ came so smoothly, so lovely from those shining lips. Pearl tried to stifle the joy that was rising in her, gnawing at the knots in her stomach.  
  
“I’m thinking: I’m eagerly awaiting whatever you would have me do, my—lady,” she said quietly, unevenly.  
  
Rose chuckled, rich and low. “No, no! What are you _really_ thinking? I want to know.”  
  
Pearl laughed at herself, hot and quivering. “I…”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“I’m thinking I’m so fortunate. You’re so beautiful.”  
  
Rose began laughing and Pearl felt herself freeze.  
  
“I-I’m so sorry. That was too bold. I—”  
  
“I _love_ bold,” Rose said, smiling, and came to Pearl and took her hands.  
  
Pearl loved it when their hands would touch. Often when Pearl was on the verge of recalling some awful thing Rose would take her hand and squeeze it gently, and when Rose was holding a shattered gem in one of her palms Pearl would take the other and press it, and Rose would muster a smile and Pearl had never felt so powerful.  
  
Pearl remembered the first time she felt sunlight on her skin. Rose was covering her eyes with her hands and her heart was racing but Rose’s voice soothed her.  
  
“You’re going to love this,” she promised, and removed her hands.  
  
Rich blue bled into lighter and lighter shades that crashed against beige that grew into towering browns with green at the top, dotted with violets and reds and yellows and she felt that she had never before experienced anything and that she needed to experience all of it.  
  
“Can I—can I go up? Up there?”  
  
“You don’t need to ask me, my Pearl,” Rose said, chuckling.  
  
Pearl nodded and ran and felt the air press against her body in its futile attempt to restrain her, felt the moisture cling to her skin, felt the sun drying it there, felt the tips of her toes pressing into the earth and she had never felt more sure of herself and she never would again.  
  
But Rose’s goal, it seemed, was to make Pearl feel good. Every glowing gaze, every small smile, every utterance of her name that came from those lovely lips made her feel that her movements were effortless, that her thoughts were profound, that her existence was a blessing. Was it the sound of her words, so resonant in her ears? Was it what they were—brave, bold, cunning, quick, persistent, amazing—that made her feel in those moments that she, with Rose at her side, could take on all of Homeworld’s armies and the Diamonds themselves? Was it the way she looked to her, with such tenderness? Was it the way she looked at her with such awe and respect? No gem had ever looked at her before the way that Rose did.  
No gem had since. When Rose left her Garnet looked to her with no understanding and no pity. Amethyst sometimes refused to meet her eyes. When she sat in her room in the temple and cried noiselessly, the roar of the waterfalls masking her wails, there was no one to look at her, to take her hand, to wipe her tears, to say, “I know you can do this, my Pearl.”  
  
Instead: “ _I_ lost someone too and you don’t see me whining about it!” “Why don’t you go cry about it somewhere else?” “You’re letting your feelings get in the way of the mission.” “You can’t sulk around anymore.”  
  
“And you can’t tell me what to do!” Pearl screamed finally.  
  
“This isn’t what Rose would’ve wanted,” Garnet said.  
  
“I don’t care!”  
  
“Yes you do.”  
  
“If she thought we could handle this then she was wrong!”  
  
If she was wrong about that, she could be wrong about everything.  
  
“She wasn’t,” Garnet said.  
  
But Pearl did not trust her. She did not trust in Rose again, completely, until Steven came to live with them. And Steven would not want to look at her again with Rose’s eyes unless she talked to the man Rose left her for. How could she? How could she say that every good thing in her life happened because of her? How could she say that, clearly, the reverse wasn’t true? How could she say how worthless that made her?

  



End file.
